Identifier: comediesofwillia02shak (find matches)
Title: The comedies of William Shakespeare
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors: Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 Abbey, Edwin Austin, 1852-1911
Subjects:
Publisher: New York : Harper and brothers
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive

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eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himselfmost feelingly personated. I can wTite very like mylady, your niece ; on a forgotten matter we can hardlymake distinction of our hands. Toby. Excellent! I smell a device. And. I havet in my nose too. Toby. He shall think, by the letters that thou wiltdrop, that they come from my niece, and that she is inlove with him. Maria. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. And. And your horse now would make him an ass. Maria. Ass, I doubt not. And. Oh, twill be admirable. Maria. Sport royal, I warrant you. I know myphysic will work with him. I will plant you two, andlet the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter;observe his construction of it. For this nis^ht to bed,and dream on the event. Farewell. \_Exit. Toby. Good-night, Penthesilea. And. Before me, shes a s^ood wench. Toby. Shes a beagle, true bred, and one that adoresme. What o that.? And. I was adored once too. Plate 12 OLIVIA AND VIOLA Twelfth Night, act i., scene v.
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TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL 89 Toby. Lets to bed, knight. Thou hadst need sendfor more money. And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foulway out. Toby. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her noti the end, call me Cut. And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how youwill. Toby. Come, come; Ill go burn some sack, tis toolate to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight. \_Exeunt. Scene IV.â^;^/rr Duke, Viola, Curio, and oiJicrs. Duke. Give me some music. Now, good-morrow,friends.Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,That old and antique song we heard last night;Methought it did relieve my passion much,More than light airs and recollected termsOf these most brisk and giddy-paced times.Come, but one verse. Ciirio. He is not here, so please your lordship, thatshould sing it. Duke. Who was it ? Curio. Feste, the jester, my lord: a fool that the ladyOlivias father took much delight in. He is about thehouse. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.â S^Exit Curio.â

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